


Really Happening

by Liadt



Category: Adam Adamant Lives!
Genre: F/M, Fake Marriage, First Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 11:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4874977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liadt/pseuds/Liadt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sky-clad dancing!</p>
<p>Free love!</p>
<p>Can Miss Jones (and Simms) save Mr Adamant from a terrible fate?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Kindly beta-ed for me by the wonderful lost_spook.

“But Simms!” protested Georgie in frustration as she argued with Simms, in the middle of Adam Adamant’s drawing room.

“Mr Adamant is an able swordsman and boxer. I am but a simple valet and you are no better than you ought to be. What experience do we have in fighting villainy? I know who I would bet on getting themselves out of trouble unscathed,” said Simms, dismissively.

“Can you honestly say you’re not worried? Adam’s been gone for hours and you said he’d phoned to say he’d have his dinner at seven on the dot.”

“Mmm.” Georgie had a point. “The last time we went rushing to Mr Adamant’s aid we ended up being dangled over a pit of piranhas and before that we were nearly drowned in a vat of wine. Then there was the time we narrowly escaped being trampled to death by a herd of cows. I hope you will excuse me for becoming disillusioned with riding to the rescue. I can’t see what harm could come from his trip to the garden centre.”

“He probably bumped into a damsel in distress buying a buddleia and thought she needed his help,” speculated Georgie.

“He does have a habit of trying to assist women who turn out to be completely amoral. Maybe I should call to check.” Simms went to the book case and took down the phone book, placed it on the table and flicked through the pages.

Georgie became impatient and elbowed Simms out of the way. “Here, let me look.”

“What charm. Is it any wonder Mr Adamant is propelled towards femme fatales? At least they have manners.”

“What’s the garden centre called?” asked Georgie, scanning the directory’s index.

“Hyacinth Glade.”

“Hyacinth Glade: that’s a commune! It’s free love, dancing sky clad and other things that’ll turn Adam green.”

“You’re right, Miss, he needs our help!” Simms was alarmed. “We can’t possibly leave him there on his own. Who knows what horrors could befall him?”

****

After sneaking into Hyacinth Glade, Georgie and Simms bumped into some of the residents, who took them to meet their headman. They led them inside a large wig-wam. The sides were lined with brightly coloured tapestries, in a bold, modern design. On the floor were rugs and huge, squashy, velvet cushions. Reclining on the cushions was a plump man, dressed in an orange kaftan. He wore his hair in a ponytail and he had a bushy beard. The people who had brought them to the tent waited quietly in the background. 

“Oh, hello, are you the leader?” enquired Georgie, holding Simms’ hand. In an attempt to look suitably hippified, Simms was wearing a yellow and navy checked jacket with a sky blue shirt, from his days as an end of pier act. It wasn’t with-it, but it was better than his usual sober attire. Georgie hadn’t changed her outfit and had a shift dress with purple, orange and pink psychedelic swirls on.

“You could say I am the leader, but I prefer to describe myself as the helping hand in guiding our group away from the misery of modern society to towards a life of eternal joy, through re-connecting with nature. I’m Holly, Jolly Holly-” said Holly, with a smile, “- Verbascum. It’s not my given name, but if you wish to join us you’ll have to change your name, to suit your new way of life.”

“Mr Verbascum-” began Simms.

Holly waved a hand in the air. “We have no ‘Misters’, ‘Misses’ or ‘Sirs’ here. Call me Holly.”

“Holly, we have come in search of our friend, Adam Adamant.”

“Adamant?” asked Holly, interested. He peered at them through the tinted pink lenses of his small, circular glasses. 

“Yes, we were meant to come with him, but he was so eager to join he forgot to wait for us,” said Georgie.

“He does appear to be the impetuous sort,” agreed Holly, with a laugh. “Are you of independent means as well?”

“You mean are we rich? I’ve got pots of cash - it’s a terrible burden,” said Georgie, thinking quickly.

“I have assets too,” said Simms, mysteriously, as if he thought talking about money was vulgar. 

“I’m happy to hear it. Sadly, before we can achieve complete self-sufficiency, we need to buy seeds, livestock and agricultural equipment. And, of course, we need a contingency for failed harvests, acts of God and so on. We’ll talk about your financial situation tomorrow. It’s getting late and I’m sure you will want to be reunited with your friend.”

**** 

Outside, in the middle of the encampment, Adam Adamant was sitting on a log in front of a blazing fire, staring into its depths. He didn’t look awfully happy to Georgie. He was still dressed in his Edwardian gear, although there was a bundle of clothes along side him. Georgie and Simms had also been given new clothes to wear. Even Georgie’s groovy dress had not been deemed suitable for a life of free love and crop rotation. 

Georgie skipped merrily up to Adam. “Hey!” George left off saying ‘Mr Adamant’ as she didn’t know what she should call him now. Simms at her side offered a simple, “Evening,” which showed he didn’t know what to say either. 

Adam’s eyes flicked from the fire to rest on Georgie. She was used to Adam’s look of surprise, but did she imagine a glimmer of relief in there too?

Adam, ever the gentleman, rose to greet her. “Good evening.”

A few of the other people sat around the fire keeping warm added their ‘Hello’s to the newcomers. They were fully clothed. Sky clad dancing was all very well in Southern California but the weather was more variable in Southern England.

“I’m Cherry Blossom now. What name did you get?” asked Georgie, brightly.

“Oakleaf Yarrow,” replied Adam. “I prayed you would not follow me to this den of iniquity. Alas, you have acted most rashly in joining me.”

“Ooh, I smell a case!” said Georgie, enthusiastically. “I guess we can’t talk about it here. Is there somewhere where we can talk alone?”

“For the sake of privacy, I will take you to my tent,” said Adam.

“This is like being in the Scouts,” said Georgie.

“Couldn’t you have prevented Miss Blossom from coming here, Simms?” Adam said.

“We thought you were in danger and it’s Marigold Thistle not Simms,” Georgie told him gleefully, as they walked away from the fireside.

Adam looked at Simms askance.

“It’s not a name I would have picked if I had any say in the matter,” said Simms with a scowl.

“I think it suits you. Sometimes you can be quite prickly, other times you-” said Georgie.

“Are as glorious as a summer’s day in June?” interjected Simms, still frowning.

“No, I was going to say you’d make a perfect pest controller.”

“And you should know.”

“If you’ve finished with your badinage, I will continue to use the names you were Christened with out of earshot,” said Adam. 

“Very good, sir,” Simms said.

Adam paused at the far end of the encampment to scan the tents to see which he remembered as his. The tents were camel coloured, with various simple designs painted on them. Flower motifs were a favourite theme. “Ah, I believe this is my abode,” said Adam, pulling open the flap of a tee-pee, with multi-coloured zig-zags.

Georgie stuck her head in through the gap. “It’s a bit gloomy.”

“I can solve that.” Simms took a lighter out of his jacket pocket. Striking it, he ventured into the tent and found a candle to light.

“OK, what’s the case?” asked Georgie, once they were all in the tent. Inside, there were a couple of bedrolls and blankets, which they had unrolled to sit on.

“I have been informed Mr Verbascum is not the benevolent, patrician gentleman he would have us believe. The Ministry thinks he is diverting the money he takes for the facilities provided to be used for nefarious deeds. What these deeds are is not clear at the moment, but it involves nations unfriendly to our sceptred isle.”

“And you’re going to catch him red handed,” said Georgie.

“Correct, Miss Jones. And, as you have now observed, I am not in any danger at all, touching as your misguided notion was. I insist you and Simms go home.”

“There’s no way we can leave you,” protested Georgie.

“Miss Jones-” began Adam, wearily.

“Without us how are you going to avoid taking part in sky clad dancing and free love? I know what you’re like, once the flower children see how you react, your cover will be blown. If we stay with you, you can say you did it with us last night around the totem pole when nobody was looking.”

“I do not believe they have a totem pole and what is sky clad dancing?”

“Prancing about without a stitch of clothing on jumping over fires,” Simms informed him.

“As for free love monogamy, is considered monotonous,” added Georgie.

Adam was horrified. “Is there no law against such debauchery?”

“Not currently, Sir. We are living through the permissive age, as the newspapers like to call it.”

“Did I hear the word ‘permissive’?” asked a male voice, with an upper class accent, from outside. The flap of the tent was pulled back and two young men entered. They were wearing the loose smock and trousers like the rest of the group, but they moved with the confidence of men who were used to privilege.

“Have you not heard of knocking?” asked Adam, in surprise at their uninvited guests.

“On a tent flap? I don’t think so, old boy,” drawled the man who had spoken first. He had a boyish face and shaggy, blond hair. His friend was shorter and his hair was a mass of curls. “Why be so unfriendly when we’ve come to welcome you into the commune? I’m Rowan and this is my friend, Ash.”

“Oh, hello, it’s fab to meet you.” Georgie smiled in welcome, but her eyes showed her wariness. Her intuition told her not to trust them.

Ash grinned back at her and shared a look with Rowan. 

“Well, hello indeed,” replied Rowan. He too grinned at Georgie.

“Ding dong,” snickered Ash.

Adam frowned. He didn’t understand the reference, but he found their manner deeply impertinent.

“What’s your name?” said Rowan to Georgie. He was all eyes for her.

“Cherry Blossom.”

“Dearest Cherry, we’ve come to initiate you in the delights of free love. Although, I bet a switched-on dolly like you can show us a few tricks,” said Rowan, with a wink.

“Not tonight. I’ve had a long day and I’m tired.”

“Ah, don’t be a wet blanket. We’ll soon put a smile on your face,” wheedled Ash.

“No, really, I would like to settle in with my friends first.”

“I can find them some birds too and we can have a little moving in party,” offered Rowan, trying to sound reasonable.

Georgie smiled pleasantly and shook her head.

Adam however had had enough and rose to his feet. “Gentlemen,” he said, through gritted teeth and the tone of his voice suggested he thought the men were anything but gentlemen. “The lady has repeatedly indicated she is not interested in your attentions. I suggest you leave or I will have to give you a lesson in good manners.” Adam rolled up his sleeves, ready to box their ears.

“Hey, don’t be selfish. You can’t keep her all to yourself. Not a dolly like her. She doesn’t belong to you. We’re free spirits here.”

This made Adam angrier. He had that look on his face that he got before running a man through. 

“Actually, she does, in a manner of speaking,” said Simms, with absolute authority. He had decided it wouldn’t be good for the assignment if Adam gave the youths a good hiding, however richly they deserved one. “Mr, ah, Oakleaf and Cherry have run away to be together. There is an old enmity between their two families that makes their love forbidden.”

Ash kicked at a tent post. “Why does this always happen to us?” he complained loudly. “As soon as we turn up it’s all; ‘we’re sorry but we’re soul mates’. This is the worst commune I’ve ever been to.”

“This is the only commune you’ve been to,” said Rowan, equally as disappointed as Ash, but more adept at concealing his true feelings. “If you change your mind…” he added, with a shrug, and exited the tent along with Ash.

“You called me a lady,” said Georgie, finding something to be pleased about.

“Simms, I must ask you in the future not to interfere,” said Adam, sternly.

Georgie disagreed. “I thought Simms was very clever. If you’d beaten them up you’d have been kicked out. Hippies believe in peace as well as love. Anyway, which bedroll do you want? I’ll stick with the one I’m sitting on.”

“Miss Jones, in the name of decorum, I suggest you find your own tent,” said Adam.

“We’re supposed to be lovers. It’ll be odd if we don’t sleep in the same wig-wam. If I have to sleep on my own somewhere else, those blokes might come back.” Georgie didn’t like to play the weaker sex card, but sometimes it was better to appeal to Adam’s chivalrous nature.

“Hmm,” said Adam, even a gentleman such as he, could spot a ploy sometimes.

“If you’re worried about being on your own with me, Simms can stay to protect your honour.”

“You shouldn’t make light of personal conduct. However, I will permit you to stay. I do not think the men in this vice filled cult have any idea of how to treat the fairer sex,” Adam said.

“The amount of time Miss Jones spends lazing at your flat, her presence will make the tent seem a home from home, sir,” said Simms.

“I do not laze around,” objected Georgie.

“Then why can I predict exactly when you will start snoring after you fall asleep?”

“I do not snore either!”

“There was a young lady who fell into a doze,  
When the villagers found her in repose,  
Her snores moved the elders to tears,  
While the rest stuffed their fingers in their ears,  
For she’d been asleep so long a tree had come out of her nose,” said Simms.

****

The next morning, Adam was sat next to Georgie outside their tent. Simms had gone to find them something to eat for breakfast.

“Now the sun has risen, I insist you leave, before you find yourself in peril,” said Adam. 

“I can’t go,” said Georgie, combing her hair through with her hands. She wished she had thought of bringing some essentials with her. A belt to cinch in the waist of her smock would have been good idea too. “It’ll look suspicious if I left you after Simms said we were an item. Then you’d be kicked out and Holly will continue with his fiendish master plan, whatever that is. Simms can’t stay and crack this case on his own, unless Holly wants a valet and that’s hardly hip.”

Adam didn’t take kindly to this. “Turning up wherever I am discharging my duty to Queen and Country does not give you leave to interfere. Have you ever for one moment considered how difficult it makes my work when I have to take into consideration lives other than my own. Particularly those of ones who are less able to defend themselves.”

Georgie picked up a twig and waved it around. “Then why don’t you teach me how to stick it to the baddies and, er, Simms too,” added Georgie, as an afterthought.

“Auditioning for the role of conductor of the vegetable orchestra are we?” said Simms. He had returned carrying a small cauldron.

“A vegetable orchestra?” inquired Georgie.

“Apparently, there is one here,” replied Simms.

“Does our breakfast reside in that receptacle?” asked Adam.

“Currently, it contains raw beetroot. I hope to conjure something that will pass muster. Beetroot is, as I have been informed, ridiculously easy for heirs and heiresses who haven’t any clue about how to grow crops to raise. By the time we’re done here, I fear we will be very familiar with the ways of the beetroot. I have also been asked to pass on a summons to visit Mr Holly. I believe he wants to talk about your relationship.” Simms then planted the cauldron on the floor and tried to stare the beetroot into something appetising. 

****

“Greetings, Oakleaf, Cherry, how nice to see you again,” said Holly, cheerfully, as the pair entered his tee-pee. Holly was still reclining on his cushions in the same position as the night before. “Why didn’t you tell me you had come to be reunited with your lover?”

“I’m so used to keeping our relationship a secret, it’s become second nature to act as if we’re not going out,” lied Georgie.

“That’s the saddest thing I’ve heard all day, but that means the rest of the day can only come to be filled with joy. You can forget about keeping your feelings secret now. Here at Hyacinth Glade, I want everyone to be happy and what can raise the spirits more than love? Love is all you need to arrive at a state of happiness and when everyone is happy there will be peace,” said Holly, starting to warm to his subject. “People can’t help falling in love here. I’ve arranged a pair-bonding ceremony for you in four days time.”

Adam crinkled his brow.

“It’s a kind of wedding ceremony,” whispered Georgie to Adam.

Adam’s confused look turned to shock.

Holly chuckled. “Of course, we don’t believe in abstinence before the ceremony, if that is what is worrying you. A pair-bonding ritual is the perfect way to introduce you to the rest of our happy band, especially if you’re taking yourselves off the free love market. You still look a little doubtful, Oakleaf.” Holly paused for a moment, before a notion struck him. “Your other friend, the one who came with you, what was his name again?” Holly clicked his fingers as he tried to remember what name he had given to Simms.

“Marigold,” supplied Georgie.

“Oh yes. We’re not all about couples, if you would like to include him in your ceremony. Open relationships, closed ones, ménage a trios, men and women, men and men, women and women; we’re very liberal here. I’m all for love however it comes.”

Adam made a sort of spluttering noise.

“Oakleaf’s overwhelmed by your generosity,” said Georgie, quickly. “Marigold’s just a friend - it’d be like marrying my Uncle.”

Holly smiled, nodded and laid back on his cushions. “Forgive me, I do get carried away and I forget love can be platonic too.”

****


	2. Part Two

Hyacinth Glade’s land ranged over several acres. It comprised of lush, grassy fields and woods. Inside the wood was a slowly meandering river. A couple of days after they had joined the commune, Adam was poised at the edge of one bank, checking his fishing rod. 

“Miss Jones, could you please restrain yourself from capering in the river,” said Adam. “You are scaring the fish away.”

Georgie was hopping across some stepping-stones. “I didn’t think we were actually going fishing; I thought it was a ruse.” Georgie climbed the bank to join Adam.

“I thought you would welcome an addition of fish to our beetroot based diet.”

“Some of the carrots in the fields look promising and Holly’s bound to do something suspicious eventually. Then we can go back to eating normal food out of tins, at home.”

Adam pulled a face at the mention of modern convenience food.

Georgie continued to talk, “Holly’s the worst we’ve come up against. He doesn’t do anything! I thought something was going to happen today when he came out of his tent, but he went and sunned himself and fell asleep. Perhaps I should make peace with Rowan and Ash and pump them for information. No one I’ve talked to likes them. Nobody can understand why they haven’t been chucked out. That makes them perfect henchman material in my book.”

Adam stopped fiddling with his line. “Miss Jones, I will not permit you to spend any time with those men. I do not think a girl is safe alone with them.”

“I’ve had plenty of experience in dealing with creeps in clubs,” said Georgie. 

“That as may be, but we have been exposed to more than enough degeneracy in this pit of depravity, without encouraging any more, potentially, lewd behaviour.”

Georgie rolled her eyes. “You wouldn’t have been exposed if you hadn’t snatched Simms’s butlering duties off him, going to fetch water from the well last night. Still, he should have told you straight it was a popular spot for heavy petting instead of claiming he loved nothing more than fetching water. It was a pretty pathetic attempt to try and protect you.”

“I am not a delicate flower whose sensibilities are in need of protection,” said Adam, in a starchy tone.

“You say that, but I saw your expression when we went social dancing. I told you it was unlikely to involve real dancing. If you’d get with the times and join in with the spirit of the camp, I wouldn’t have to pretend the reason you look so green around the gills is because of something you ate. I thought the exposure to an up-to-date way of life would make you less uptight. It’s the sixties - fun is allowed!”

“Over the course of my travels in different countries I have seen such degeneracy as would make your hair curl. If I have not become dulled to scenes of debasement, it is because I do not believe that in dealing with devils means I have to become one. Moreover, my disgust does not render me incapable of carrying out my duty,” said Adam, irritably, putting an end to the discussion.

“I thought we had sneaked away to practise what we were going to do for our pair-bonding,” said Georgie, changing the topic.

“From what I have observed there appears to be nothing to rehearse,” said Adam, going back to attaching bait to his line.

“What about the end? Those couples I’ve seen getting hitched look like they’re eating each other and not kissing. We need to be convincing.”

“I am quite sure a simple kiss on the lips will suffice. You have been practising enough on my cheek, while you’ve been hanging off my arm, when any one walks past us. If you wish to be convincing you might try to refrain from constantly swinging off my arm. A loving partner does not treat a proffered arm as a swing, as a young child might.”

“We must be the only couple in history to disappear into the bushes not to be romantic with each other,” complained Georgie, sitting down on the bank and throwing her arms around her legs in a huff.

Adam smiled in amusement. “If you do insist in keeping me company, my dear, Miss Jones, you can make yourself useful and join me in fishing for our supper.”

Georgie glanced up at him. “I can’t fish.”

“I’ll teach you.”

Georgie jumped up, pleased. “Is this where you put your arms around me and show me how? I knew you’d see we need some wedding practise.”

“I will not be placing my arms around you unless I fear you are in danger of falling into the river and drowning.”

“The bank is very slippery. A girl could easily loose her footing,” said Georgie, slyly, sliding a foot back and forth on the ground.

“However, as the river is two foot deep and has a solid gravel bed, this is unlikely,” Adam informed her.

Georgie tried not to scowl. Adam sounded entirely too smug to her.

****

“A penny for your thoughts, sir,” said Simms. He was sitting around a small fire with Adam inside their tee-pee. Adam was staring at the smoke as it rose to disappear through a hole in the canopy. It was the night before the pair-bonding and Georgie had left to participate in a kind of hen party with some of the other women.

“Mmm?” said Adam, lost in thought. 

“You look worried: is it about tomorrow?”

“In a word, yes.”

“If you’re concerned about people ear wigging outside the tent, to hear if you’re feeling the love that Mr Verbascum wishes to instil in us, all you have to do is shake the tent for a few minutes,” advised Simms.

Adam didn’t look any happier. “It is the wedding that grieves me most. The one yesterday looked rather an imposition on the young lady. I would not want to foist myself on Miss Jones in the same way. I should have never have agreed to this pagan sham. Taking advantage to solve a case lies heavy with me.”

“I’m sure Miss Jones won’t mind. She is very fond of you,” said Simms, stating the obvious.

“It is mere childhood hero worship,” said Adam, dismissively.

“Miss Jones may act childishly, but she’s not a child anymore, even if she doesn’t act like a lady.”

“I doubt she will ever grow to be a lady. I despair at her lack of progress.”

“She is a little wayward,” agreed Simms. “But what you see is what you get with her. Some of the women who claim to be ladies prove to be the opposite once the surface is scratched.”

“Those ladies evil lies in how sorely they have been misguided,” said Adam.

Simms sighed inwardly and repressed the desire to knock some sense into Adam with a log. “Much as it pains me to say anything remotely complimentary with regards to that nuisance, but Miss Jones’s brain is devoid of evil thoughts, misguided or not.”

Adam didn’t appear to be paying attention. “I wonder if I should confront Mr Verbascum and demand he tell me what he’s up to?”

“Not an efficient strategy, Sir. Think of the pair-bonding as a scene in a play. They are both make believe. I kissed many women I didn’t care for in rep and neither party were damaged by the experience. Except for when I had to woo Miss Constance Burrell every night for a month in _She Was Crossed_. I was her faithless lover who she shot in the final act. I wished it was in the first. She ate copious amounts of garlic for dubious health reasons. My stomach still churns to think of it.”

“I shall bear that in mind. The fantasy aspect, that is,” said Adam.

****

Georgie hurried through the long grass of the meadow towards Simms. He was standing with his arms folded, clutching a bunch of flowers in one hand, staring at the assembly that had gathered around Adam and Holly. Holly was acting as the master of ceremonies for the pair-bonding. There were no clocks in the camp, but Georgie felt somehow that she was running late. It hadn’t taken her long to put her wedding dress on, which was little more than a floaty shift made out of a thin gauze dyed turquoise. What had seemed to take ages was the braiding of her hair and the addition of a freshly made flower headdress.

“How, Marigold. Why are you hanging back?” Georgie halted in front of Simms and raised a palm in greeting. With his loose tunic and trousers topped off with a brightly coloured scarf tied around his head, which had a couple of pheasant tail feathers poked in the back, Simms reminded her of her of a native American off a teatime TV Western. She guessed the scarf was to disguise that his hair wasn’t as long as the usual hippy dropout and the feathers were a nice touch for the wedding.

Simms was unimpressed. “If you think I look like an Indian wait until you see Mr Adamant. Fittingly, they’ve marked him up for execution. Before you go down the aisle I want to give you this.” Simms unfolded his arms and showed Georgie the bouquet he held.

“Oh, Simms, they’re smashing.” Georgie was touched, even if it was only pretend. “I didn’t know you were a whizz with flowers.”

Simms cleared his throat. “It’s not all my own work. I had help from a Madame Primrose.”

“A Madam Primrose?” Was this Simms being coy? “Don’t tell me you haven’t been spending all your time thinking up new beetroot recipes?”

Simms gave her a wicked look. “Primrose may have invited me to see her collection of beetroot recipes in her tent. And I had to find somewhere else to sleep while you and Mr Adamant enjoy your ‘honeymoon’ alone tonight.”

“So this is what happens when you have nothing to dust?” Georgie feigned shock. “You shouldn’t have gone to the trouble of making a bouquet, not for a fake marriage.”

“To us it may be, but to our glorious leader it had to appear real and I am partly responsible for the situation. I thought a touch of the traditional would help Mr Adamant through the ceremony.”

“Will you be giving me away too?”

“I doubt I could even as a free gift. Oh look, the crowd is parting. There isn’t a wide enough gap for the two of us to parade down.”

Georgie turned her head and saw Simms was right. For a few seconds she felt shy with all eyes on her, but smiling back at the crowd gave her courage. With flowers in her hair, she began to feel like a fairy princess as she walked down the aisle. If there had been the room, she would have given the onlookers a stately wave. She had nearly reached the centre of the gathering when she saw Adam turn towards her. Simms hadn’t lied: Adam was stripped to the waist and a large red cross had been painted on his chest like a target. Georgie supposed Adam wasn’t the sort of person you would draw flowers on. Georgie felt weak at the knees. It wasn’t as if she had only now noticed that Adam was a handsome man, but with him waiting for her and her alone, she could imagine how overwhelming it would be if it was an actual wedding. That thought was swiftly replaced by a strong desire to make it real coupled with the certainty that this was just another ordeal for Adam to battle through to defeat evil. Georgie blinked back a few tears: just like a real bride. 

****

Adam watched Georgie come towards him. Her dress reminded him of the time he had rescued several innocent members of a girl’s finishing school in 1897. They had worn similar garments as they waited to be sacrificed to Satan by a crazed cult. Adam was glad he hadn’t been given Ashtoreth’s scimitar to sacrifice Georgie with. She looked lovely. Adam didn’t want to concentrate on how lovely, as the dress was almost transparent. Instead, he focused on the large bouquet of wild flowers she held. 

“Now if the happy couple can tear their eyes away from each other for a moment, shall we begin?” said Holly, keen to get started in his role as the high priest of love.

****

“You may now kiss,” said Holly, after Adam and Georgie had finished repeating the vows Holly had written for the occasion. Georgie flung away her bouquet, threw her arms around Adam’s neck and proceeded to kiss him passionately. Adam wasn’t completely taken aback by her actions, but he had thought perhaps she might have waited for him to kiss her first. No, Miss Jones was not a lady and with her body pressed tightly against his, she was most definitely not a child either. The layers of clothing and corsets he was used to feeling when with a Victorian lady were not present. Adam couldn’t help wondering if corsets were not for correcting posture, but to stop suitors from getting ahead of themselves. Georgie’s irresistibly enthusiastic kisses, coupled with the feel of her warm body under his hands, were having an effect on him. He couldn’t help kissing her back. He told himself he needed to break away from her before his ingrained respect for women was eradicated. Somehow, he failed and found himself kissing her neck. Georgie’s soft moan in response went straight into his ear and made him feel weak. So weak he wanted to fall to his knees, pull her down with him and… Adam pushed Georgie abruptly away, lest his body betray what his mind had been thinking. 

“A little rough, Oakleaf,” chuckled Holly. “Still it would be hasty to consummate your pair-bonding before you’ve had a chance to sample the lavish feast we’ve put on for you, much as it cheers me to see such a passionate pair of lovers.”

Adam stared at Holly and the surrounding throng. For a moment, he had forgotten they were there. He hated Holly and, worse, himself for being tricked into this perverted display for these degenerates. He didn’t blame Miss Jones; she had a terrible tendency to be over enthusiastic at the best of times.

****

The sun was starting to set over Hyacinth Glade and the post-wedding celebrations were almost over. Adam and Georgie hadn’t eaten much. Talking to every camp member and listening to an inordinate number of speeches had been the order of the day. Quite why people he barely knew felt they had to give speeches on their behalf, Adam didn’t know. Still Simms had written an appropriate and pithy limerick, even though the rhyme did sound akin to a verse from a greetings card. Adam recalled he never had asked Simms if he had won that limerick competition, as he walked with Georgie out of the centre of the camp.

“Watch out for those thistles,” warned Georgie, tugging him away from the offending patch of weeds.

“Hmm?” said Adam, who had been lost in thought.

“He’s wondering if your relationship is going to be different now you’ve been joined together,” said a tall woman, to Georgie’s left, with a laugh.

Adam was unsure why some of the group had decided to escort them back to their tent. He fervently prayed they wouldn’t loiter outside. If they were expecting to experience second hand thrills by listening in they would be sorely disappointed.

“I hope you like the way we’ve decked out your tee-pee,” continued the woman.

Ah, they have accompanied us to receive praise for their work, Adam realised, as they reached their tent.

Georgie pushed the tent flap open and went inside. “Adam! I mean Oakleaf, you should see what they’ve done, it’s super. And they’ve decorated your stick too.” Georgie poked her head out of the wig-wam and presented Adam with his stick. It was festooned with brightly coloured ribbons and bows.

Adam took the stick off Georgie. “It is most… eye catching. Thank you for your hard work.”

This pleased their escorts. “We’ll leave you to it then,” said the chatty woman, with a wink and followed her friends back to finish off what was left of the feast.

Adam went after Georgie into the tent and put his stick down on the ground. More bows and ornaments hung down from the canopy. Their bedrolls were gone and had been replaced by a larger and more substantial mattress. 

“Zowee! It really is smashing, isn’t it?” said Georgie, happily. She lifted her arms above her head to run her fingertips along the ornaments making them chime prettily. A shaft of sunlight from the setting sun came in through the entrance. The light illuminated her body, under her flimsy dress. Adam couldn’t help remembering, too, when that body had been pressed against his. He shut his eyes in the hope the memory would disappear.

“Are you all right? You’re not having a funny turn, are you?” Georgie came up to Adam and put a hand to his cheek.

Adam brushed her hand away. “I am quite fine,” he answered, tersely.

“No, you’re not,” said Georgie, perceptively. “You can tell me - I’m your wife after all.”

“This devil’s joke we were involved with today is no kind of marriage and I will not treat it as such,” snapped Adam.

Georgie was taken aback at Adam’s reaction.

“Forgive me - I was recalling the end of the ceremony,” said Adam, contrite.

“You mean the kiss? I didn’t think it was that bad - quite the opposite,” said Georgie.

“I pray I did not offend your person,” said Adam, reddening.

“How could I possibly be offended? It was great. I didn’t know the Victorians did passion. I knew I liked you, but I wondered if you felt the same way until then - and now we’ve got the place all to ourselves,” said Georgie, her usual liveliness returning. 

“I feel this is the last thing we should be doing.”

“Why not? Everyone including Holly will be sleeping the feast off or dancing. I don’t think he’ll be doing any dastardly deeds tonight.”

“I meant with regards to us sharing a tent together - alone.” Adam wished he had thawed out when some of the Nation’s morals still existed.

Georgie gave Adam a curious look. “I thought you were an adventurer?”

Adam was puzzled. “You know I am.”

“Well, what could be a bigger adventure than love? I know all your lot were hugely repressed, but what could please God and upset the Devil more than two people in love? It’s not sinful, degrading or cheap if that’s why you’re doing it. And I’m not repeating some claptrap of Holly’s, I’m being sincere. You do know you are allowed to kiss a girl married or unmarried, don’t you?” Georgie took Adam’s hand and pulled him towards the bed. He didn’t resist. Georgie was correct about the kissing and if he stayed standing up to embrace her one of those decorations would have his eye out.

****


	3. Part Three

The next morning, Georgie was out collecting firewood in the woods and came across a wide clearing. There was an army style jeep parked in the clearing. Next to it was Holly, who was talking to a man with an unusually serious expression on his usually cheerful face. Georgie backed away quietly. When she judged she was out of earshot, she dropped the wood she was carrying and ran as fast as she could back to the camp to tell Adam. She found Adam drawing water from the well. 

“Quick!” she called to him, gesturing frantically with her hands. Adam dashed from the well to her side.

“It’s Holly,” whispered Georgie, urgently. “He’s out in the woods with a jeep. Whatever he’s doing with his ill-gotten gains he could be doing it outside the camp. If we’re lucky we can sneak a lift.” Message given, Georgie turned and briskly walked back into the woods. 

Adam followed after a quick detour to pick up his swordstick. On reaching the clearing, Adam and Georgie stealthily made their way over to the open back of the truck. They climbed in and were in the process of concealing themselves under tarpaulins when two people came around to the vehicle carrying armfuls of flowers.

“Hey! What are you up to,” questioned a short woman, with dark blonde hair. 

“It’s all right, Primrose,” said a familiar voice through the blooms. “They’re friends of mine.”

“That doesn’t explain why they’re trying to hide, Bill.”

“Aren’t you supposed to only tell people your Glade name?” Georgie couldn’t resist asking.

“I made him tell me his original name. There was no way I was going to call him Marigold. Holly, brilliant as he may be, was scraping the barrel with that one,” replied Primrose.

“Mr Verbascum is not as brilliant as he may appear. I was sent here to find out what he does with the commune’s finances,” said Adam.

“He spends it on seeds, livestock, and land for new camps,” said Primrose.

“If you come with us you’ll find out the truth. He’s been up to no good with your cash,” said Georgie.

“Madam, I -” began Adam, who was about to suggest that he didn’t want any more ladies putting themselves in the way of danger, but Primrose interrupted him. She wasn’t happy about aspersions being cast on Holly.

“Holly only wants us to be happy, he wouldn’t misspend our money. I’ll prove you wrong. These flowers are going to market to make some money and promote the commune. I’m disappointed in the kind of company you keep, Bill,” said Primrose, hotly. She threw the flowers into the back of the truck and scrambled in. “Come on then - aren’t you coming, too?”

“I doubt another pair of eyes is needed in this enterprise,” said Simms. 

“Simms, your presence is required to ensure the ladies’ safety, while I deal with Mr Verbascum,” ordered Adam.

“Yes, sir.” Simms sighed and dutifully got into the jeep. Unlike Adam, he thought Primrose could face off danger without any help from him and Georgie would annoy any adversary to death.

****

The truck jerked to a halt. The doors at the front of the vehicle opened and the little group in the back heard two sets of feet go crunching off over gravel. After huddling in silence for some time, they finally ventured out. They slunk out into the sunshine and found themselves, not in a country market, but on the driveway of a large country house. They couldn’t see a soul in the grounds, so they walked to the open doors of the entrance to the mansion. The house had a large neo-classical porch. Moving from the blazing sunshine, they found the entrance hall refreshingly cool with its creamy marble floor. Along the walls were full sized statues of Greek gods and goddesses. At the end of the hall was a huge, golden staircase with big oil paintings hung above the it. The mansion’s interior was very different to the environment they had been living in for the past few days. There were no signs of life in the hall, until one of the gold double doors to the side opened and an attractive woman came through it. She wore an orange bikini, sunglasses, sandals and gold bracelets. Her auburn hair was carefully styled in the latest fashion, with a hairpiece to add bulk. Although she wore little, she still managed to out dress the group from the commune. The woman halted in surprise and took her shades off to see the newcomers better. 

“I’ve not seen you around here. Are you one of those Hyacinth people?” she asked.

“Yes, we are, madam,” answered Adam, courteously. 

Reassured by this reply, the woman came up to them. “I expect you’re lost: the camp people come in through the servants’ entrance. Holly is in the armoury with his computer and dreary scientists. I don’t know why he has put a computer in there. All they do is add up numbers. Do you like my sunglasses?” she added and proudly showed them off. “Holly bought them for me. They have real diamonds set in them.”

The door the woman had come through opened again and a man entered the hall. The man was very tall, with short dark hair, a twirlable moustache and rabbity teeth. He wore stripy swimming trunks and a Rolex watch on his wrist.

“Jenny! Have you found out what has happened to the Moet? I’m parched and I can’t stand claret,” complained the man, as he marched up to Jenny. “And I’m fed up with caviar. Why can’t we have simple fare like an egg? A normal hen’s egg, not quail, on toast.”

“Do you like my sunglasses?” said Jenny to the man. “They don’t match my bracelets. Will you buy me something shiny to go with them?”

Adam cleared his throat. It was obvious there was nothing to be gained by standing around listening to these rather shallow people. “Madam, if you would be so kind as to direct our party to the armoury, please.”

The man peered at them as if his need for champagne had temporarily rendered him blind to their presence. “Jenny’s terrible at directions. Go straight up the staircase and it’s the fifth door on the right. If you see anybody with champers tell them we are utterly gasping for it out by the pool.”

****

Adam pushed the door to the armoury open. Inside it was a hive of activity. Men and women in white coats, holding clipboards, flicked switches and pressed buttons on a series of massive cabinet-style computers. On some of the machines lights flicked on and off and on others reels of tape spooled back and forth. Sporadically, a computer punched out a card and a scientist would dash over to examine it and make notes. In between the computer banks were suits of armour and mediaeval weapons mounted on the walls. In the middle of the room was a long, dark, oak, feasting table. It was partially covered with maps and papers. 

Primrose picked up one of the sheets of paper and read out loud the title; “ _War - the variables guaranteed to ensure success in battle. How computers can aid extermination_. What’s Holly doing with plans for wars when he’s for love and peace?”

As if in answer the door, they had come through, swung open and in came Holly. He wore a purple kaftan, edged with gold tassels and embroidery. He was flanked by Rowan and Ash, who wore the usual drab tunics and trousers of the commune.

“You know my motto, Primrose: I want people to be happy,” said Holly and spread his arms wide, as if he could physically spread joy all around him.

“Call me stupid, but wars don’t make people happy: they cause misery and destruction,” Georgie said.

“Ah, Cherry, my girl, you are thinking about war in the wrong way. I would have thought better of one of my disciples. My grand plan is to devise the perfect war machine and sell it to the highest bidder. I have several interested parties already. Once the winning bidder has eradicated the nations that are causing them such misery with their existence true peace will reign,” explained Holly.

“That’s evil - horrible! Wiping out one group of people to make another group ‘happy’,” exclaimed Georgie.

“You, sir, are quite insane,” said Adam, saying what everyone else was thinking.

“I’m taking this paper back to the camp and telling everyone what you’ve been doing. And to think I called these people liars and said you were a force for good,” said Primrose in disgust.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that. I feel a wave of sadness washing over me just thinking about it. Ash, Rowan, please sort this situation out.” Holly put a hand to his forehead in distress and leaned against the wall for support.

“Our pleasure,” grinned Rowan, unpleasantly.

Adam took a step back.

“You’re not as brave as you were the other night. Did your friend step in because you’re a lousy fighter?” jeered Rowan.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” added Ash, balling his hands into fists.

Adam had retreated, not because he was a coward, but because as his swordstick was covered in ribbons he was uncertain how easy it would be to unsheathe it. His fears were unfounded; the sword came out smoothly. 

“So that’s how you want it. I love hitting people with bits of sharp, pointy metal,” said Ash, with relish. He turned to the wall, took down a flail, and threw a mace to Rowan. Ash came quickly at Adam, but he was rash and too confident that Adam’s sword had no chance against his hefty weapon. Adam ducked to the side of the whirling, spiked ball on a chain to grab Ash by his arm and pull him close to plunge his sword straight through his torso. Ash slumped to the floor, dead.

Rowan wasn’t the least perturbed by his friend’s demise. “A fencer eh? I was house champion when I was younger.” He flipped the mace to his left hand and removed a sword from the wall. Rowan did not rush like Ash and carefully circled Adam. His eyes were trained on Adam watching for the tiniest indication of what Adam’s next move might be. The scientists pressed themselves firmly against the walls, their clipboards tucked under their chins. Judging by their expressions, they were shocked by the sight of Ash’s dead body. 

Adam suddenly darted forward to attack. Rowan parried Adam’s blows with ease. Rowan struck back using both the sword and mace. Trying to defend himself from two weapons, Adam didn’t see the sheets of paper Primrose had accidentally scattered onto the floor and slipped on one, falling flat onto his back. A terrible grin spread over Rowan’s features. He threw the mace to one side and held the sword’s hilt in both hands to deliver a killing blow. He plunged the blade forward only to be met with a two footed kick to the stomach by Adam. It was Rowan’s turn to fall backwards. While Adam got up to face Rowan again, Rowan too rose. He was still winded from the kick, yet his anger at Adam for depriving him of his victory spurred him on to resume the fight. Adam’s cool head was no match for the young man and he despatched Rowan in the same manner as he had Ash.

“Never assume you have won the battle until the last soldier has fallen,” said Adam, gravely.

“You’ve not won yet. I’ve other guards I can call on,” shouted Holly. His voice shook despite his words.

Adam raised an eyebrow in question.

Holly’s reply was to turn and flee the room. Adam chased him to the top of the stairs. Holly’s foot became entangled in his voluminous kaftan and he fell over the balustrade. There was a sickening crunch followed by a shrill scream and the sound of breaking glass. Adam rushed down the stairs to locate where the lady who cried out was and offer her some comfort. To his surprise and disappointment, he found the man he had met earlier. The man held his hands to his face in shock and the remains of a smashed bottle of champagne spread across the marble floor. 

****

“It looks like it’s curtains for Hyacinth Glade,” said Simms to Primrose, as she sifted through the documents on the table to find the most damning ones to take back to the commune. 

“Holly may not have been the man I thought he was, but his principles for the commune are still good. If we can regain control of the money we gave to him, I reckon we can continue the camp. Holly was the one bad apple and he’s gone now,” replied Primrose.

“Not to mention Rowan and Ash.”

“Now I know why Holly didn’t throw them out. They were his lackeys.” Primrose picked up a particularly fat document to examine. 

Leaving Primrose thus engaged, Simms went over to Georgie who was gazing down at Ash. “Finally, we can get back to normal,” he said, loudly into her ear, to break her out of any morbid thoughts. 

“You heard what Adam said about victory. Holly said he had other guards to fight Adam with,” said Georgie, looking up.

“Holly didn’t appear to have the courage of his convictions when he said it,” said Simms. 

“No and if those two were Holly’s best Adam will have no trouble dispatching them,” agreed Georgie. 

“Mr Adamant shall have a nice, juicy, beetroot free steak tonight,” said Simms, clapping his hands together. “And if he doesn’t I certainly will.” He then reached up, pulled his scarf off his head, dropped it to the floor and ran his fingers through his hair in relief.

Georgie perked up at the mention of food. “That sounds smashing. I like mine medium-rare.”

“With you spending all your time cluttering up Mr Adamant’s abode and camping out with the flower children, you should shuffle off to your pied-de-terre to check you haven’t been evicted.” 

“Well, me and Adam have a lot to discuss that can’t wait. He was very insistent that we arrange a wedding, a real one, as quickly as possible, after what happened between us last night,” said Georgie, her voice matter-of-fact. “Don’t worry; I won’t let him sack you if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Simms wasn’t.

“Marriage should be for love not to gain a free maid… Simms, are you all right? It’s not the corpses is it?” said Georgie, worried.

Simms had turned the same shade Adam had been for the majority of the week. “You don’t mean to tell me: you’ve ruined Mr Adamant’s reputation!” He was aghast at the thought. “I knew I said the wrong things to him the night before the pair-bonding nonsense. I should have impressed upon him how irredeemably monstrous you are instead.”

Georgie smiled and gave Simms a big hug. “You’re a big softie really.” She left the stunned valet to find her fiancé, to tell him in no uncertain terms once they were wed he really couldn’t go off and leave her out of the fun any more.

The End.


End file.
